Are You a Tamale?
by larrythestapler
Summary: “Hermione, are you a tamale? Because you sure are hot.” Draco winked. Hermione…Hermione tried not to vomit. Oneshot. Rated T for VERY suggestive language.


_A__/N: Have fun reading. Very fluffy, very sanctimonious, irrelevant, slightly sexist, and unfunny. But all the opposite to myself, since I do write to entertain myself. Oh, and of course, misinterpreting so don't read if you have a problem with suggestive language! I've been leaving this fanfic in my document folder for months, unsure of how to edit it! Hope you guys love it! It's just a bunch of scenes I've collected from fandoms like House, Scrubs, Romeo and Juliet…all of which I don't own. I don't own Harry Potter either. Or Stevie Wonder's "Isn't She Lovely?"_

**Are You a Tamale?**

**larrythestapler**

"Hermione, are you a tamale? Because you sure are hot." Draco winked. Hermione…Hermione tried not to vomit.

"Draco Malfoy, you are an idiot," she replied coolly.

The couple was at the beach, specifically on its sandy shore. An idle feeling surpassed them as Draco gently caressed Hermione's sleek brown hair, and sniffing the scent of her hair as he buried his face on her head. His hands wrapped around her wide hips. Hermione remained indifferent to this. She loved the creep, but her mind wandered to explore its contents.

"I'll kill you if you tangle it up. I had to pay so much for that hair straightener." Hermione slapped Draco's hands away as a group of young children stared at them. "Ugh, plus your hands are gross, what HAVE YOU BEEN TOUCHING YOU SICK BAST—''

"Did you just bitchslap my hand?" Draco asked, unaware of his now sad, sad situation.

"Are you calling me a bitch?" Hermione replied, indignant. She stared defiantly into Draco's cold grey eyes as he nervously made an incoherent answer.

Hermione wore a light blue sarong above a bright orange two piece swimsuit. Her skin looked slightly sun kissed in the mid-afternoon lighting. Her companion wasn't bad looking either, though freakishly pale. On the other side of the dock, a group of teenage girls eyed him, swooning at his presence. But his attention directed at Hermione and only Hermione, who sadly remained indifferent to his strong looks.

Draco dangerously removed her bright sarong, but she complied. Her eyes were distracted by the beauty of the sunset and the gentle salty breeze of the fresh ocean. His eyes, however, were distracted by her. Danger flash red hot as Draco stroked Hermione's thin curved legs. A feeling of hotness overcame him as he naughtily though of odd fantasies starring Hermione. And he couldn't forget the smooth, ineffable sensation of her soft, tender thighs…

"Oh my God. You're such a pervert." Hermione twisted his hands and after a half nelson (which she learned from a DVD "Women Fight Back") her sandy foot kept his large head down as he suffocated in the white sand. Draco redeemed himself after a scowl and danced around Hermione.

"You forgot to mention that I was, excuse me, AM, incredibly handsome, intelligent, and womanizing. And even though I am an idiot, you know you want all of this." Draco pointed to his _buff _body as Hermione sighed, pulling out a thick book of Arithmancy out of her duffle bag.

"You got one part right." Hermione smirked. "I'm casting a restraining spell. And you're going to be tortured. Oh, ho, ho." Hermione laughed hysterically.

"Has anyone ever told you that your eyes are as blue as the ocean?" Draco asked as he softly nudged Hermione's face. She felt secretly flattered, but felt a need of protection and thus replied with a rhetorical question.

"Has anyone ever taught you good pick up lines?"

"Hey if I kiss you, will I get slapped?" Draco asked, leaning in for a passionate kiss. Hermione kept a grip of her thick math book and did not kiss forward.

"I'm not a fan of public displays of affection." Hermione nagged, barely complying with the rhythmic pattern of the kiss. A flash of golden light threw Draco off Hermione's body as his head hit in the sand, a few hundred meters away.

"BABY WHY YOU GOT TO BE LIKE THAT?" Draco screamed. He covered his eyes as he brushed sand off of his face. Hermione made her way to the shore, laughing uncontrollably as Draco ran after her.

"Our hormones will relentlessly unleash and there will be no stopping them as they completely fry any sense in our brains. And pretty soon, I'll be in some dark cave undressed, breathing like crazy, engaged in a rigorous, futile physical activity, a-a-and, and WORSE OF ALL, KNOCKED UP. AND WHEN I GET FAT AND YOU DUMP ME, BAD THINGS WILL HAPPEN AND I WILL CHOP IT OFF!! IS THAT REALLY WHAT YOU WANT?" Hermione slapped Draco.

"Are you on your period?" Draco asked after a long stretch of silence. Her wordy answers were uncomfortable as they resonated in his head again and again, but he found them somewhat, _heating_.

"Oh you did not go there." Hermione gasped as a squirt of water came her way, and Draco snickered running ahead with a neon green toy water gun.

"OH YOU DID NOT JUST DO THAT."

Sunset came, and the couple left the beach to the near boardwalk. After a short, five minute drive Hermione and Draco reached the steps of the sandy, old boardwalk and settled in small soda shop as Draco discreetly stole straws from the straw dispenser.

"Discreet much." Hermione boorishly stared. She slouched in her red leather seat, gazing at Draco mindlessly. His gray eyes were _incredibly breathtaking_…

"Ugh." Draco grunted as he slipped the paper wrapper off the straw. He managed to successfully stick two bright red straws up his nose without hurting himself. Hermione groaned.

"Draco, honey, we're going to be married in a week. Please stop putting straws in your nose." Hermione reprimanded. Draco walked her to the little cake shop in Hogsmeade to make arrangements with the owner.

"Awwww. BUT I LOOK LIKE SUCH A COOL WALRUS." He bounced up and down in his euphoric moment, but saw a stern Hermione facing him. Draco removed two bendy straws from his nose as Hermione gazed at the little cake shop. _Dammit. She is absentminded today._

"Why are you looking at the naked mannequin?" Hermione asked innocently out of her daze, as Draco mesmerized the shapely buttocks of the old mannequins in the little gift shop to their right. She left the question when she entered a reverie about marriage and its possible romantic delights.

"Umm…"

"Marriage, I can't believe we're going to be married..." Hermione sighed. "I've always waited for you to pop the question, but I can't believe I've waited for a month to answer. I've always fantasized the perfect wedding ever since I was a little girl."

"Perhaps we should join in love and _trust _each other," Draco teased in a low, seductive tone. "Or I could be the thief, and steal your heart." He gave Hermione a flirtatious wink as she turned to face him, words coming out of her mouth, killing the heart of every man.

"Draco, ONCE AGAIN, having relations is dangerous. For all I know your _appendage_ could be filled with infectious diseases with some skank you hooked up at Hogwarts. Plus during intercourse, you have no control. It's basic physiology. Muscles contract and spasm, your brain sends out random signals to every part of your body as your hormone levels go off the roof, your blood pressure zooms up, and your respiratory system becomes shallow and rapid. It's really nasty and dangerous, and we have to consider the consequences of an unwanted pregnancy and health risks before opening our legs and screwing around like crude idiots. Therefore, I think we should at least refrain from sex until we're united by marriage. Besides, you still have that curse on you, and if you try to have intercourse with me, all hell will rise. Literally."

"So, appendage huh?" Draco said nervously, noticing the temperature of his core rising to a painful amount, as an excruciating feeling stole his lower abdomen. Hermione gently touched his stubbled face and gave him a gentle peck on the cheek. She entered the little shop, leaving a confused Draco outside with shopping bags of sandy beachware.

"See you!" Hermione yelled from the interior of the little shop. "REMEMBER TO MEET ME AT THE LECTURE IN AN HOUR," she yelled, pressing the wedding plans to the glass door.

He had longed for her, and her physical appeal first enticed him. She had a kind complex, but it was not completely innocent. The white-blond male found himself _aroused _when he saw Hermione part her plump, lush lips. Her ocean-blue eyes shone mysteriously, seductively, as it fit in the beautiful frame of her face like beads on a necklace. The curves of her body complemented the heat emitted from her lustful facial features. But her long verbose answers were heartbreaking. Ever since Hermione became the Dean of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts, her verbose answers grew in strings and strings...and...

"One Butterbeer, please." Draco took a seat next to Harry at a dusty counter, giving him a manly colloquial greeting by punching his shoulder. He entered the small bar, dejected, and spun on the twirling green chair. It was the bar of his teenage years, and now it was the bar of his depressing adult years. The setting did not change much; dust collected on the tables and a pudgy manager still stood behind the counter serving drinks to depressed, tired customers. A dark sepia ambiance filled the room, and Draco noticed his snoozing accomplice, unawake from deep slumber. Draco slapped him.

"Hey." Harry said, as he woke up from his drink. Draco sipped Harry's Butterbeer with puckered lips and let out a sigh of dissatisfaction.

"Potter." Draco greeted as he threw his books on the pub's counter.

"Girl problems, Malfoy?" Harry asked., trying to convey his condolences. Semi-drunk, he took the black fedora off of Draco's head, revealing a field of white blond hair.

"Yeah, how did you know, Potter?"

"Well, you're a girl. And you look like you have problems. Girl problems. Watch out." Harry replied as he stupefied the flying cupid approaching them. An arrow crashed on Draco's head of blonde hair, and he subsided to a whimper of pain.

"It's just Hermione. She constantly reminds me of our, err, incomplete union."

"Oh dear Lord. I think I might vomit."

"Are you going to help me or WHAT."

"Fine. Go on. By the way, your fedora is awesome." Harry winked. Draco ignored the comment as he received his bottle of Butterbeer from the shabby bar owner.

"I don't know. It's probably the whole idea of marriage but lately, I've been so...tense."

"Tense." Harry snickered.

"Oh, be mature about it. Besides, haven't you and Ginny gotten any romantic things going on?"

"Yeah, but you have to be evasive about it. Just come on to things gently, and she'll be very flattered."

"That's what I do. But I end up getting sand in my face."

"That's Hermione for you." Harry laid his copy of _The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet _down as Draco stared, perplexed.

"You read Shakespeare? I'd expect you to be more of a romanticist then. Rather than a crude, idiotic, bastardous…Sorry."

"Required in all literature classes, mate. So, how can I assuage thou popp'rin pear? Should I get thee a delicious medlar fruit? Withdraw thy naked weapon and fight like a man. BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT MEN DO," Harry teased.

"Oh shut up."

"Your mom."

"That doesn't make sense."

"LIKE YOUR FACE. DOUBLE BURNAGE."

Draco let out a long, irritated sigh as Harry continued snickering. "Listen, just slowly get into it. Tell her how you feel about her, and if she finds the feeling mutual, then you're good to roll. You do not want to face the consequences of…."

He gasped as a rumbling sound headed near their direction. A gigantic red-haired woman made her way toward Harry as he winced. Her hair lay unkempt as her teeth glowed freakishly white. Eye gunk circled her eyes, revealing her sick and fatigue nature. And of course, there was a bun in her oven.

"Oh the irony." Draco laughed.

"Harry, you need to go home and take care of the cat. First you knock me up, and then YOU GET TO DRINK AT A BAR? Don't you love your wife anymore?" _Slap. _ "Do I look pretty? WHY AREN'T YOU ANSWERING ME? DO YOU HAVE AN AFFAIR YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF—" _Slap._

"Ah, the sails! The sails!" Draco choked on laughter as a very pregnant Ginny took a seat at the bar counter.

"Hey that's my wife you're talking about," Harry snapped. "Lovely dear."

"Isn't she lovelyyyyy? Isn't she wonderful? I never knew that love could be making love as lovely as she—" Draco's eyes teared from laughter, but it broke when the ginormous woman slapped his hand.

"Love gloves break, pills aren't one hundred percent positive, and abstinence is painful. Woe is me."

"Watch it pipsqueak. Your ass is going down if I hear one more comment," Ginny roared. "Ginger ale please."

"Ginny, you know Hermione well enough. Know what turns her on or off?"

"She likes Paul Newman," Ginny suggested.

"No."

"Fine, you want real advice? Go talk to her. Tell her that it's bothering you. Risk the relationship talking, or be unhappy in the relationship not talking. Plus, you don't want her like me. Hermione doesn't want this." Ginny pointed to her huge stomach as Draco cringed at the sight of the rotund bulging shape.

"When's the kid due?"

"Three more months."

"Wow, you really are fat."

"WHAT?" Ginny whacked Draco as Harry sat giggling.

"AND YOU. LAUGHING AT YOUR OWN KID."

"Oh crap, I have to go to Hermione's lecture on Muggle Studies in five minutes. Uhh, uhh APPARATE!"

"Dude, don't touch me!" Harry screamed, as Draco's girly hands wrapped around his arms.

After a painful scream of cry and a squirt of blood, a different setting surrounded the two young men.

"Great, now I don't have my arms, Malfoy. And my wife is going to skin me. I hope you're HAPPY." They were in a small common room in the school of their memories. Harry grumbled angrily at the absence of his arms. Draco smirked and saw Hermione at the podium with a stack of messy papers as she stroked her hair back.

"Testing. Testing." Hermione boomed. The crowd of young students covered their ears as Hermione backed away from the black microphone in front of her. "Entrepreneur Robin Williams once said, 'God gave men both a penis and a brain, but unfortunately not enough blood supply to run both at the same time.'"

Canned laughter filled the room as Draco pushed his face into his hands.

"_Oh, God Hermione. It was one joke." _Draco's face turned red as he rested a complementary copy of _Psychological Proofs Through the Centuries _on his lap.

"Getting hard up, Malfoy? But then EW. You and one of my best friends." Harry choked between laughs and shivering flinches.

"Shut the hell up." the blond boy hissed.

"Your—"

"Today we are here to discuss about the behavior of Muggle men, or simple behavioral psychology. I've noticed from my study of the plethoric existing cultures that both wizards and Muggles have a tendency to feel aggressive and protective of the opposite gender. They seek to satisfy their partner, and sadly even rely on male enhancement drugs. They fear _impotence _and the _flabbiness_ of union between them and their partner. Males have a tendency to seek for attention and power, rather than rationality and justice. It is sad, then, to discuss of their retrospect of women."

"I have once had a boss that hired me, a Hogwarts postgraduate, to sexually harass me. It is offending and childish as I look back. Women are merely handmaidens, creatures of fulfilling every man's sexual fantasy. They idealize submission. They idealize perky breasts, lustful eyes, broad hips, perfect hair. And with these features, men hope to misuse the union of love as an act of dominance and overpower. This is not saying that all men are pagan beasts; it is a mere summary of an inconvenient truth amongst most men, but not all. Ironic enough, some men don't even care for these exotic features. They merely want intercourse. Why?"

Draco winced at Hermione's suggestive language as she continued after pulling a stack of papers from the pile.

"Trust. The feeling from union gives an ideal taste of trust. Psychotherapy specialists in the Healing field have shown studies that linked trust with sexual relations. Intimacy unleashes every insecurity, a total undress of mind and garments to both parties of the union."

"WHOOT PROFESSOR GRANGER." A tall teenage boy hooted as Hermione continued with a look of disdain.

"Contradictorily, the cruder, basic men of a few centuries ago have sought sexual desires for a different reason. There we come back to aggressiveness. Aggressive behavior, satirically, leads to the fear of open feeling, and letting sultry sentiments build. A relationship may be diminished from simple passive-aggressiveness and lack of communication as one partner struggle for dominance and force without consent. This may be the case for the modern man. Which brings us to the final point? A truly successful couple, excuse my subjectiveness, has mutual attraction. Without a connection and fight of some sort, a relationship cannot last. All elements, from barbaric sexual pleasure to commitment and understanding are important."

It was either dust in his eyes, or Hermione had just turned naughty and winked at him.

"And that is why, I want to say, that even with all the mistakes and wrongdoings I've committed, I need to thank my fiancé, Draco, for bringing so much passion and love into my life. I've never felt so loved. He has managed to rescue me from the sanctity of my neurosis and showed me the world through his eyes and brutal honesty. And that is why I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Draco felt tears burning behind his eyes as Hermione trembled into the microphone. A serenade of "awws" followed as Hermione flew down from the podium into Draco's arms.

"Thank you!" Draco carried her bridal-style outside the common rooms as a queue of students rose from their seats, smiling at the gushy scene.

"When I marry I wonder if God will be mad that I stole one of his angels."

"You idiot."

"Draco, are you stupid? We're not allowed to look at each other on our wedding day, you idiot." Hermione pushed him out the door, squeezing her eyes shut, and barely-cladded in her undergarments. Draco sneaked a glance, anyway, smiling as he tried to calm his bride down.

"Your love has made me blind."

"You mean my huge credentials."

"Love."

"Pft." Hermione blew a raspberry as she slipped into her puffy white wedding dress. Draco left the dressing room, though stealing one last kiss before parting Hermione. Unfortunately, her eyes were still closed, and they fell on the ground, pounds of make-up supplies falling on them.

"GET OUT."

"Okay, my pretty."

"That's demeaning."

"Your face—"

Their wedding, the most memorable day of their lives, past by in a blur. He remembered classily kissing her on the altar, and carrying her down the wide aisle as friends and family threw rice at them. He couldn't forget her non-Hermione giggles as she jumped into the small car. They settled in the small apartment room, gathering gifts and home supplies as they closed the day off. Memories of guests, brightness, Hermione's elegant wedding dress and her beautiful body whizzed in a part of Draco's mind fervently.

"Well Mr. Malfoy. We're finally married." Hermione smiled, leaning in for a peck as they entered the small room.

"Yeah, we are Mrs. Malfoy. I mean Granger." Draco chuckled. He realized at that moment that it was not her physique that attracted him. Like modern man, Draco fell in love with the ardent, strong, intelligent woman. It was independence and determination that caused the fat angel to stab his heart with a poisoned arrow called love. And he was glad.

"I've tortured you long enough." Hermione smiled.

"Well, it's time to hit the hay." Draco approached the small bed near the window of the apartment, and stopped when Hermione pulled him down.

"Nuh-uh." Hermione cooed as she pulled Draco to her rosy lips. Draco opened his gray eyes in shock as a lustful Hermione pulled him down to the floor of the cold apartment. A frisky smirk etched Draco's pretty boy face, as six words ran out of his mouth after a mutual kiss.

"This is going to be fun."

A/N: Ahhh, I exaggerated the perviness of men, haven't I? It got lazy too, so forgiveness from readers! Just had to get it out of my system…Plus I like to remind that I don't own the following" Hermione's sex rant (House MD, Harry's girl bit (Scrubs), "Isn't She Lovely?" (Stevie Wonder), and a plethora of _Romeo and Juliet_ unfunny jokes.


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